


The Most Ordinary Way Possible

by BuzzCat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (the ghosts will show up eventually so I'm just adding them now), Family Reunions, Ford's Hermit Life, Gen, man tagging for this fandom is hard because names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14490033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuzzCat/pseuds/BuzzCat
Summary: Stanley runs into his brother in Gravity Falls in possibly the least anomalous way possible





	1. Chapter 1

When Stan first showed up in Gravity Falls, rolling in late one July night after he lost Rico and his goons a couple states back, it felt like he’d always been there. This was most likely contributed to by the fact that everyone seemed to know his name. He introduced himself to a couple people and sure enough, soon the entire town would say hi whenever he passed. Gravity Falls wasn’t a town that really needed a salesman, but the convenience store down the way was hiring—something about the previous owners having died of heart attacks and their entire estate up for grabs to whoever would run that place—and soon Stan found himself a fine upstanding member of the Gravity Falls community. Well, as ‘fine’ and ‘upstanding’ as one could be when he was employing a ten-year-old to do some fixes on the property and he still didn’t go out much, in case word got back to Rico. Granted, he didn’t have to go out much to see the townsfolk, as they all came to him.

And they’d come to him saying the strangest things too.

“Evening, Mr. Pines. Good to see you doing better than yesterday,” Deputy Durlin would say, when Stan knew for a fact that he hadn’t seen the officer the day before.

“Mr. Pines, you sure you want coffee? You were looking a little jittery last I saw you,” Lazy Susan would say when Stan stepped into the diner. Sure, Stan got a little paranoid sometimes when he thought he’d seen someone too familiar in town, but he wasn’t what he’d call jittery. There was a part of him, those first few times someone had said something he didn’t remember, that wondered if they’d somehow met Ford. But that was impossible. Last Ma had told Stan, Ford was still out at Backupsmore working on his PhD; it was impossible that the people of Gravity Falls could know his brother.

After a couple months of people talking about things he couldn’t remember, Stan started to wonder if he was losing his mind. When Manly Dan made a comment about helping Stan build his house, Stan turned to the lumberjack and said, “Alright, I’m getting this sorted out one way or another. Where do I live?” Manly Dan hadn’t even raised an eyebrow; sometimes people just needed reminding where they were from in a place like Gravity Falls. Manly Dan jerked his thumb,

“Gopher Road, that house at the end of it.”

“Thanks.” Stan said. When the convenience store closed, he got in his car and drove out to the little house at the end of Gopher Road. The place had multiple signs warning visitors not to approach but Stan took no heed; it was time to meet this other Mr. Pines.

Stan went up and knocked on the door, ready to schmooze or fight whoever opened it. Whoever thought it was funny to take his name had another thing—

The door opened.

Stanford stood in the open doorway, face open and pleasant before he realized who was standing on his doorstep. His eyebrows rose and he said in confusion and surprise,

“Stanley?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU: Fiddleford is already chilling and Ford hasn’t gotten involved with Bill yet because ew gross Bill. Also, we’re saying fuck the timeline, Soos is totally a person (albeit a very young person) in this

“Stanley?” Ford’s eyes went wide. What in the ever-living hell was his brother doing in Gravity Falls? Stan stared at him,

“Ford? What are you doing here?”

Ford crossed his arms, “I live here, studying anomalies in the area. What are you doing here?”

“I live here too, knucklehead. I run the convenience store.”

 _The convenience store…_ Ford tried to remember the layout of the town. Fiddleford had been doing most of the shopping recently; Ford hadn’t had to go into town for days. The convenience store rang a distant bell. Ford frowned,

“Isn’t that run by two old folks? Ma and Pa or something?”

“It was. They died _months_ ago though, where’ve you been?” Stan said. Ford crossed his arms defensively,

“Well I’ve been busy. This town is a veritable hotspot for anomalous activity and I hardly have time to chat it up with the locals.”

Stan raised an eyebrow, “Really? Because it seems like the best way to learn about the weird things in Gravity Falls is to talk to the people who _see the weird things_.”

Damn. Ford hadn’t thought of that. It just seemed so redundant; why _ask_ someone about the gnomes when he could just go _investigate_ the gnomes?

The conversation puttered out and suddenly Ford remembered the last time he and Stanley had talked. The last time he’d seen his brother, through a second-story window as Stan drove off and Ford didn’t even say goodbye. The room felt tense and awkward; it appeared Stanley had just remembered as well if the set of his eyebrows was anything to go by.

They were saved when footsteps tromped up the stairs on the back porch and the door swung open,

“Ford, I hope ya got enough space in that journal of yours for—” Fiddleford froze when he stepped into the living room and took in the scene of Ford standing there, holding the door open while Stanley stood in the entryway. Fiddleford looked at one brother, then the other. “I ain’t seein’ double, am I?”

Ford sighed, “No, you’re not. Fiddleford, this is my twin brother, Stanley.”

Stan waved awkwardly and Fiddleford just stared. He turned to Ford, frowning, “Ya never told me ya got a brother, let alone a twin, Stanford.” Ford didn’t see Stanley’s expression at Fiddleford’s words and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He couldn’t quite meet Fiddleford’s eye,

“We didn’t part on good terms.”

“And when was that?” Fiddleford asked, hands on his hips.

“About nine years ago.” Ford winced even as he said it. Family was important to Fiddleford and this was not going to go over well.

Fiddleford’s face hardened, “Now I know I musta heard ya wrong, Stanford, because I thought ya just said it’d been nine years since ya laid eyes on ya brother.”

“That’s correct.” Ford answered quietly.

Fiddleford fairly exploded.

“Nine YEARS, Stanford? What in tarnation made ya think ya could just go nine years not talking to ya kin? Ya don’t cut family out like that Stanford, not unless they did something truly unforgiveable.”

“But he did do something unforgiveable!” Ford defended himself. If he’d been looking at Stan, he’d have seen his twin fairly turning red before Stanley growled,

“’Unforgiveable’, Ford? You think what I did was unforgiveable? You watched Pa kick me out! I got kicked out of the house and you couldn’t even be bothered to say good-bye!”

“You ruined my project! I could have gone to West Point Tech. That’s a name that opens more doors than you can _imagine_ , Stanley. You ruined my life and because of you—”

“I ruined your life but don’t put the rest of this on me! Your life turned out just fine!”

“But you—”

“No, I don’t rightly know we can say that he ruined your life, Stanford.”

Ford rounded on his friend, coldly livid, “Something you’d like to add to the conversation, Fiddleford?”

“At the risk of my personal safety, yes.” Fiddleford spoke patiently, as if walking a child through addition, “Ford, what is your passion in life?”

“What? What does that have—”

“Answer the question, Ford,” Fiddleford said patiently. Stan looked on quietly. Ford shuffled around a bit,

“Scientific pursuit of answers. Studying anomalies.”

“That’s right. And Ford, what do ya have a research grant for? What’re ya literally being paid to do?”

“Study anomalies.” Ford felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him. Stanley had stolen his chance at going to West Point Tech, a school that could have made all his dreams come true. That was the story, one he’d been telling himself for years. And…and Stanley had ruined his life.

But how ruined was his life? He lived with his best friend, in a town practically overrun with anomalous activity, and he was being paid to study it. Ford was beginning to see that this looked suspiciously like all of his dreams come true.

“But it shouldn’t have been this hard to get what I wanted!” Ford cringed even as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t whined like this since he was a child. Stanley finally spoke up,

“Oh grow up, would ya, Ford? So you had to work hard to achieve all your hopes and dreams in life, big deal.”

Ford turned around to tell Stanley that yes, it was indeed a big deal, but Fiddleford put a hand on each of their chests,

“I think that’s enough conversation for today. Stanley, you’re welcome to come by tomorrow afternoon and we can discuss this more. It was a pleasure to meet you, good-bye.” Fiddleford closed the door, mentally apologizing to his ma for ushering a guest out so impolitely. But he’d seen Ford’s expression when Ford realized he had everything he’d ever dreamed of. Fiddleford had an inkling of why Ford had clung to the idea of Stanley ruining his life and if Fiddleford was right, he had no intention of letting Ford dig himself back into denial.

The door clicked shut and Fiddleford turned to Ford and said sarcastically,

“Well that went well.”

Stanford paid him no mind, “What the hell is he doing in Gravity Falls? This is the last place any of my family would ever go. Stanley hates the woods, he hates being in the middle of nowhere. What is he doing here?”

“I doubt he rightly knows himself,” Fiddleford answered thoughtfully. Ford frowned at him in confusion and Fiddleford continued, “Well, you know how strange this town is. And the folks what move here—including you and me—they ain’t exactly what ya’d refer to as normal. This is just a theory I have—”

“Your theories tend to be right.”

“—but my theory is that Gravity Falls draws the weird to it just as much as it creates the weird itself. Folks what don’t quite fit in elsewhere, critters that really don’t belong, everything ends up here.”

“And you think my brother is weird enough that Gravity Falls drew him here? I don’t know how to explain this to you Fiddleford, but Stanley is possibly the most normal person in my family.”

“And that is an impression formed on who he was nine years ago. People change, Stanford. There’s no way of knowing why your brother ended up here.”

“Unless I ask him.” And there it was. The crux of why Fiddleford was pushing this. Ford knew that Fiddleford was close with his family, staying in contact and always going home for holidays. Ford’s own home situation was as foreign to Fiddleford as Fiddleford’s was to Ford.

Fiddleford put a hand on Ford’s shoulder,

“I know ya think I’m bein’ pushy about this. And I am. Because family is what ya have in this world. Whether it’s a family you’re born into or a family of friends ya put together yourself, family is what ya got at the end of the day. And I know you and Stan have your issues between the pair of you, but you gotta at least try to work past that.”

Ford gently moved Fiddleford’s hand away. “I’ll think about it. I’m going out to the bunker.”

Ford walked out the back door, his mind fixed on what he’d realized today: Stan hadn’t ruined his life.

So did that mean he’d ruined Stanley’s?

 

* * *

 

The door closed in Stanley’s face. That Fiddleford guy seemed weird. And Ford…Ford was here. In Gravity Falls. Holy shit.

Stan started walking back to his car. Of course, of course it was Ford. He was a fucking idiot. Who else would have a face like his, a name like his, and live in a town crawling with weird shit? Of course it was Ford. Of course Stanley couldn’t just have his own town, his own place to be. Of course he’d been living in Ford’s shadow the entire time. Just like when they were kids. And still, like an idiot, Stanley hadn’t known.

When he got back to his apartment, Stanley almost packed up right there and then. He’d lived in Ford’s shadow before and he wasn’t going to do it again. He wasn’t going to drag Ford down to his level.

Stanley had a duffel bag of clothes packed before he stopped. He couldn’t just leave. These were people who would actually notice if he left in the middle of the night. They knew his name, could track him down. But Stan could leave them, he could ditch, and it’d be just fine; they’d forget eventually. No one in the town had the most solid memory anyway.

But then Stan happened to see the door hinges, the ones Soos had oiled and fixed until they didn’t squeak and the door didn’t stick. Soos wouldn’t forget. Soos would miss him and wait and Stan would just be another guy that walked out. Stan leaving is the kind of thing that would probably have a lasting effect on the kid.

With a groan, Stan threw his duffel bag on the floor and flopped onto his bed. Alright, so he couldn’t just leave, no matter how much he wanted to. Soos deserved better than that, better than a letter (which was about a quarter of a step up from a postcard and even Stan wasn’t that big of an asshole). Stan laid on his bed for the rest of the night, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how the hell tomorrow would go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has prompts for this fic or for Gravity Falls in general, leave them in the comments or drop them by my tumblr: beatrice-babe.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford comes to a few unnerving realizations. Also, Soos is here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing with the timeline bc lol what timeline? In this chapter, Soos is about 10 years old. Also, this still takes place this same evening, during the time that Stan goes home and panics.

Ford wandered through the woods, trying to clear his mind. Trying to process exactly what had just happened.

Ford was living a life that made him happy. The happiness he had found would be unlikely to have appeared the same if he had attended West Coast Tech. The reason he did not attend West Coast Tech was because of Stanley. Ergo, the happiness Ford had found was because of Stanley’s actions. Conclusion: Stanley had not ruined his life.

No matter how much Ford turned it around and flipped it upside down, those facts were still the same. Ford was living a good life, a life he wouldn’t trade for all the scholarly acclaim in the world. Stanley’s actions may have changed the trajectory of how he got here, but Ford just couldn’t say that Stan had ruined his life. Not anymore.

Ford slumped against the nearest tree, careful not to sit on the singing toadstools that softly hummed beside him.

Ford’s life was good. Very good. Honestly, the more Ford thought about it the more he realized that he couldn’t imagine a better life. Which was very particularly unnerving when he realized that the truth he know understood did not resemble the story of his life that he’d always decided was the facts.

His life was ruined by Stanley at the end of his senior year of high school. Stanley had ruined his life. If it hadn’t been for Stan, Ford could have really been someone. It was all Stan’s fault that Ford had had to struggle so hard to graduate. Everything that could have been solved by being at a better school was Stan’s fault. Stan was to blame for Ford’s struggles, and no one else.

Ford had been telling himself that story for years. But running into Stan now, listening to what Fiddleford said, Ford had the distinct impression that he was wrong. He had been following the facts of his life, but specifically ignoring whatever facts did not coincide with the life story he’d been telling himself. Ignoring facts was one of the most heinous crimes a scientist could make, and Ford felt the shame start to settle on him like a suffocating blanket.

Ford jumped to his feet. He needed to be moving. And right now, the forest felt too familiar. He knew its trees too well; he needed to be somewhere different, just something new to pull him out of his own head. He headed out of the forest at a determined pace, heading towards town to wander the streets.

 

Ford had only been in Gravity Falls proper for a couple minutes before a small child came running up to him, “Mr. Pines, Mr. Pines!”

Ford turned, confused. He hadn’t spoken to a small child in years, let alone given one his name. But sure enough, a child of maybe ten years was running excitedly up to him. The boy was smiling,

“I haven’t seen you outside of work in forever, Mr. Pines! What are you up to, dude?”

“I beg your pardon? We haven’t met before.”

The boy laughed, “Good one, Mr. Pines. Did you still need that sink unblocked? My abuelita said it’s okay if I come over to the convenience store after school tomorrow.”

Ford’s confusion cleared up and his lips thinned, “I’m afraid you’re speaking to the wrong person, ah…young sir. I am Stanford Pines; my twin brother Stanley Pines is the one running the convenience store.”

The boy’s eyes went wide, and Ford could almost see the stars in them, “Woah! You’re Mr. Pines’s brother, Mr. Pines?”

“Doctor Pines.”

“Woah!” Instantly, the boy was practically attached to Ford’s leg, hugging him, “Your brother is the coolest!”

Ford tried not to snort in response. Perhaps Stanley wasn’t as bad as he’d made him out to be, but he doubted his brother was worth such high admiration, “I highly doubt that.”

The boy shook his head, “No, it’s true! Mr. Pines is the greatest! He lets me hang out at the store when Abuelita is at work and sometimes when she works late I get to stay and he makes me macaroni and cheese and we get to watch movies! He’s the greatest.”

Ford was taken aback. This wasn’t the Stan he knew. Sure, Stan was good with people, but Ford didn’t remember his brother being the sort to offer babysitting for a ten-year-old. And hadn’t the child mentioned something about unblocking a sink?

“Doesn’t he make you do chores at the store?”

The child nodded, “Repair jobs. Stan is training me to be a handyman! I get to fix doors and unblock sinks. He won’t let me change lightbulbs yet because Abuelita would get really mad if I fell off the ladder, but sometimes he lets me rearrange the shelves in the store. One time I got to put all the cereal in rainbow order and Mr. Pines left it like that for a week!”

Ford felt like he’d tripped and fallen into a different universe. His brother, the brother who used to drag race through the alleys of New Jersey and try every illicit substance under the sun, was regularly watching a small child, taking care of him and worrying about his safety.

Ford felt something click in his brain and he felt all the color drain from his face,

“Is Stanley your father?”

The boy sobered at that, then laughed nervously, “Nah. My dad lives in Las Vegas, I think. Mr. Pines just lets me fix things and hang around the store.”

Ford winced. An absent father, so this child had fit Stanley into the role. And apparently, Stan had filled it well. When had his brother become so caring?

“What’s your name?” Ford asked. The boy smiled,

“Oh, duh. I’m Soos,” the boy held out his hand, “pleased to meet you.”

Ford cringed. He knew how a handshake with a six-fingered man was going to end, especially when it concerned a ten-year-old child, a societal section not known for their tact. Nevertheless, Ford shook the boy’s hand, “Pleased to meet you as well.”

Soos’s eyes widened and he looked down at the handshake, “Woah, an extra finger! That’s so cool, dude!” Ford blinked in surprise. Generally, the word ‘cool’ was not one applied to him, regarding his hands or any other aspect of his life. But Soos, apparently, did not care one iota that Ford had an extra finger. If anything, he was delighted by it, as his excited questioning began, “How did you get it? Which finger is the extra finger? Does it make your hand do weird things? Can you play any of those piano songs written for people with six fingers? Does Mr. Pines have a secret sixth finger?” Soos gasped, “Do _I_ have a secret sixth finger?”

“No,” Ford jumped in when he could to stem the flow of questions, “you don’t have an extra finger. Stan doesn’t either. I was born with an extra finger. It doesn’t inhibit me from performing normally, but as I’ve had it my whole life, I cannot be the authority on what qualifies as ‘normal’ functioning for the typical non-polydactyl. And as I have never attempted to play piano in general, I am unsure of how it would affect my ability to play any of the specific songs for polydactyls.”

Soos had stars in his eyes again. “You used so many big words, Dr. Pines.”

Ford blushed, “Yes, well, as a member of the scientific community, I tend to…do that.”

Soos was still looking at him in awe, though Ford wasn’t sure why. He cleared his throat, “Isn’t it getting a little late for you to be out? Should you be going home?”

Soos looked at the sun, staring at it for a moment before shrugging, “Abuelita says I need to be home by sunset, so I guess. ‘Bye Dr. Pines! Say hello to Mr. Pines for me!” Soos gave Ford a hug before running off down the street, fairly radiating excitement.

Ford continued on his walk, dazed. He had suspicions that his brother was not the terrible person he’d thought him to be, but meeting Soos confirmed it for Ford.

Ford no longer knew his own brother.

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I threw together. Stanford mentioned that he finished his PhD like three years early so it makes sense that Stan would still expect him to be in college as opposed to hacking it out in Gravity Falls.
> 
> Comment with what you want to see next time!


End file.
